


Tea, Two Sugars, No Blood

by wargoddess



Series: A Family Affair [17]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Warmfuzzy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-28 01:34:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20055865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wargoddess/pseuds/wargoddess
Summary: Just a quiet moment, with tea. (Dante hates tea.)





	Tea, Two Sugars, No Blood

Dante finds Vergil standing on the balcony of the clock tower, beneath the moonlight, because Vergil.

Dante lands on the dome of the tower, in Vergil's blind spot. Or rather, that's where he'd be standing if Vergil had a blind spot, which he doesn't. There's an order to these things, however. Rules to follow. Vergil doesn't really do communications skills, so they use actions. Dante must at least make a show of stealth or aggression before he approaches, so that Vergil has something to react to. Then Vergil may choose -- and indicate by his reaction -- how he wants to handle the approach. It's not really that complicated, though Nero complained that it was when Dante tried to explain it to him, once. It's _weird_, yeah. But Dante's big brother is a simple guy when you dig past all his weird bullshit, and the big fucking sword, and his annoying habit of periodically attempting to unleash the apocalypse. Dante once knew a guy who wouldn't get out of bed in the morning unless he had two bananas on his nightstand -- both to eat, but then he said he used the banana peels to jerk off. Dante will take predictable, manageable crazy over Literal Bananapants any day.

Vergil has heard him on the dome. Dante sees his shoulders tense ever-so-slightly. But he relaxes in nearly the same instant, so Dante does too. He leaps down onto the balcony beside Vergil, and rests his elbows on the railing. Vergil doesn't turn to him or speak, but that's good. He's chosen not to protest Dante's existence today. It's always a good day when that happens.

Some time passes. Dante relaxes further, listening to the wind, shutting his eyes so that he can feel the delicate pressure of the starlight against his skin. He remembers doing this with their father, long ago. Sparda was endlessly fascinated by the heavens of the human realm, probably because the demon realm tended to have skies of blood or mirrors or upside-down architecture, or maybe bananas. "Stars," he would say every now and again, while Dante roughhoused with Vergil nearby. "Just... stars. Amazing."

Dante glances at Vergil and wonders if he remembers those nights. On impulse, he leans over and bumps his shoulder against Vergil's side, where Vergil has put his hands on the railing. Vergil does not respond, though he narrows his eyes. Dante grins and does it again, hard enough to actually jostle him.

Vergil turns a cold look on him. "Stop. That."

"'K," Dante says. When Vergil settles again, Dante waits three whole minutes -- he counts -- before shoulder-nudging Vergil again.

In a flash, Vergil has him in a headlock. Not hard. It's the same kind of headlock he used to put Dante in when Dante annoyed him as a child. Delighted, Dante tries to twist around to grin at him -- pauses in surprise when he realizes Vergil is staring down at him, a look of confusion and wonder on his face. Oh. He must have forgotten about the headlock thing until he actually did one.

Vergil's composed himself again by the time he lets Dante go. Dante straightens, swipes his hair back into a semblance of its usual style, then leans against the railing again and openly grins at him. Vergil rolls his eyes, and turns to go. But he pauses, before reaching the door that leads back into his clock tower condo.

"Would you like tea?" he asks.

Dante hates tea. But that's not what matters, here. Clearly Vergil's gotten tired of the old patterns, the old habits. They aren't children anymore. This is his reaction to Dante's invocation of the past: create a new ritual wherein they can spend time in one another's presence. Something they can use for the forseeable future.

Even if it involves tea. "Sure," Dante says, just managing to keep his upper lip from curling. "Got any black or green?"

"I have... chamomile."

Dante _really_ hates chamomile. But Vergil's smirking at him, the bastard. Revenge for the shoulder-nudges.

Still, for the chance to just spend a quiet moment with his twin, he'll drink dried flowers, pureed bananapants, whatever. He moves to follow Vergil.

"Poor little brother," Vergil says, holding the door for him. "The look on your face. I'll add some Qliphoth liqueur to your tea, so you don't suffer so much."

Well, that does help a lot. Dante grins and precedes him inside. "Not like I ever really minded the suffering, Verg, long as it was with you."

He's downstairs before he realizes Vergil has paused in his wake, still holding the door open. Reacting to something, silently. Dante turns and puts his hands on his hips, raising his eyebrows. 

Vergil blinks. "Pardon me. Stargazing." 

He closes the door and comes in. He makes tea. A companionable silence falls between them. Dante sits across from him, and drinks it. It's awful, even with the liqueur. But it's just tea.

So he has another cup. 

**Author's Note:**

> Just needed a palate-cleanser/brain scrub after "Bound in Blood." No prompt this time, just a thing I wanted to see. Poor Dante. He really does hate chamomile.


End file.
